


like birds of a feather

by ivermectin



Category: Gossip Girl (TV 2007)
Genre: AU: canon diverges during season 3, Abusive Chuck Bass, Alcohol, Banter, Bodyswap, Bulimia (mentioned/referenced), Dan & Blair are Best Friends, Dan Humphrey is Not Gossip Girl, Embarrassing Boners, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Falling In Love, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Humor, Mentioned Blair/Serena (unreciprocated), Nate Archibald is Everybody's Best Bro, Non-Sexual Intimacy, POV Blair Waldorf, Recreational Drug Use, Supportive Serena van der Woodsen, Themes of Self-image, discussion of sex, i did my best to ensure this is not cissexist, internalized homophobia/biphobia, mentions of past abusive relationship, no gender essentialism (i'm trans), past Blair/Chuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:27:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27206621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivermectin/pseuds/ivermectin
Summary: When Blair Waldorf wakes up in Dan Humphrey's body, she and Dan have no choice but to work together to get through it, and to ensure that nobody suspects anything. This fic includes themes of self-image, adaptation and adjustment - all of the weirdness that is waking up in a friend's body, the trust and intimacy that comes with it, and how nothing will ever be the same again.
Relationships: Dan Humphrey & Serena van der Woodsen & Blair Waldorf, Dan Humphrey/Blair Waldorf, Nate Archibald & Blair Waldorf & Dan Humphrey
Comments: 11
Kudos: 47
Collections: Fic Journal of the Plague Year





	like birds of a feather

**Author's Note:**

> this is an AU in the following ways:  
> 1\. they actually stay in college – blair doesn’t go to columbia, she adjusts to nyu instead, and dan & blair become slightly reluctant friends (the way they are in s4, but much sooner.)  
> 2\. blair breaks up with chuck FOR GOOD over the hotel thing.  
> 3\. there is no georgina! whether this means she was not dan’s ex, or that she was but just is not relevant to this story is your choice – it doesn’t affect the events that take place here either way. there is no olivia either. she straight up does not happen, i am sorry.  
> 4\. no jealous scheming ex girlfriend nonsense from serena! she’s totally chill as a cucumber.  
> 5\. jenny is in hudson just because. lets pretend rufus did a better job at noticing & caring about his daughter’s well-being.
> 
> i mentioned this in the tags already but i am not cis, so i did my best to ensure that from a gender POV this wasn’t cissexist. if i somehow missed something though feel free to let me know in the comments. for the sex related stuff i read [this cosmo article on boners](https://www.cosmopolitan.com/sex-love/news/a16873/your-boner-questions-answered-by-cosmo-guys/) and i was going to have d&b reading [this article on orgasms](https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5087698/), but sadly it didn’t work out timeline wise, as the article’s been published in 2016, and we are currently either in 2011 or 2012, i am not 100% sure since the show glossed over college very weirdly.
> 
> there is no actual sexual activity here, but a lot of conversation about sex, hence the rating’s at M.

Blair’s first thought when she wakes up is that this is not her body.

She’s spent enough time in the past being acutely aware of her body, used to her mother’s prodding at her stomach and arms, used to measuring scales and weighing herself every week and watching her reflection for the pinched look to her expression that would mean that she was _winning_.

Blair doesn’t know how bodies work for other people, if they are as acutely aware of their skin, of the space they’re taking up, physically, if they’re aware of their skin in the same way that a sentient mannequin would be of pins and needles being jabbed at them to keep the clothes up. This is how being in her body is for Blair; another game to play, another kingdom to conquer.

She blinks, wonders if maybe she had too much to drink last night, but even then, that doesn’t explain anything. The feeling she’s feeling is real, and as she puts her hands on her face to remove her sleep mask and accidentally prods skin, she jolts out of bed, horrified.

“Argh!” she screams, but that’s not her voice; it’s too deep, like a rumble. And this body that is not her body feels lighter but a lot more lanky, limbs like tree branches and shoulders broader and her head is lighter because she’s got less hair, and there’s a lightness to her chest like – oh, wait, _no_ – she closes her eyes, and opens them again, hoping this will go away, because she recognizes those hands.

There’s no voice checking up on her, so she guesses she’s at home alone. She gets up from the bed, walks over to the bathroom, and tries not to look at Dan’s reflection as she brushes her teeth. Well, Dan’s teeth, but while she’s inhabiting his body, they’re hers.

She finds his phone by the table, and dials her own number.

Dan and Blair aren’t friends, not really, but they’re not enemies either. Going to NYU has made them learn how to tolerate each other, enough so that they nod to each other in corridors, and often share a table in the library. In the few common classes they have, sometimes they sit together, and sometimes they share notes after. Dan isn’t her friend, but he is close enough to it, so she knows that he’ll be co-operative.

“Hey,” she says when he picks up.

“Blair?” her voice responds, and _wow_ , the tone is all his. She does not sound like that.

“Humphrey,” she greets, frowning a little at the way his voice sounds. It’s too gruff when she’s talking with it; Dan never sounds like that.

“You’re in my body, the least you can do is use my first name,” he quips, and it is truly disorienting to hear him using her voice to stumble over the sentence at an ungodly pace. Blair would say it constitutes an out of body experience, but the situation is horrifying enough without bad puns.

“Alright, Dan,” she says.

“This is weird,” Dan says.

“Tell me about it,” she shoots back. “I’ll join you in my rooms, but uh, how do I get there?”

“Catch a cab,” Dan tells her. “You might have noticed that I don’t have a chauffeur, or even a car here. My wallet’s in the bedside drawer.”

Blair finds it and frowns; he’s got paper money in there, not many credit cards. Weird.

“I’ll be there in however long it takes to get there,” Blair tells him. “What do I do for breakfast?”

“You’ll have to make it yourself,” Dan says. “Or you can just eat when you get here; it is your house, after all.”

“Don’t do anything fucked up in my body,” Blair warns him. And then she hangs up.

-

When Blair gets there, Dorota informs her that “Miss Blair is still in her bedroom,” and then, in a fairly good imitation of her, Dan yells, “DOROTA! Send Humphrey upstairs!”

“I’M GLAD YOU’RE HAVING A GOOD TIME!” she yells, because it’s her house, and she’s damned if she doesn’t yell a little.

The expression on Dorota’s face indicates that she does not like Dan Humphrey very much.

Blair shoots her an apologetic smile, hoping Dan’s face can pull it off, as she marches up the steps.

When she gets there, it’s to Dan sitting up in bed, wrapped in a blanket, sleep mask removed and placed on the bedside table.

“You didn’t come downstairs,” she says, accusingly.

Dan swallows, and Blair scowls – this will not do, if he’s in her body, the least he can do is maintain the sort of composure and body language that she would.

“I figured you would need to get dressed,” he responds sheepishly. “And I couldn’t really do that without you. What do you want to wear today?”

Blair blinks. For the first time, she’d not given much thought to the clothes she’d thrown on, mostly because she was too busy freaking out over the fact that she was in Dan’s body. She looks at what she’d pulled on distractedly, and sees jeans and a crumpled t-shirt.

“Oh, you wore this yesterday,” she says aloud, putting a hand on the denim. “I’m sorry.”

Dan’s smiling, bemused. It’s a weird expression to see on a face that belongs to her, though maybe Blair feels like that because of all the time she’s spent practicing scowls in the mirror.

“I can’t believe we got Freaky Fridayed,” Blair huffs, going through her closet and choosing a purple and green outfit that inspires confidence – no skirts for Dan Humphrey, and no heels either. She doesn’t want him to twist an ankle. “Is it even a Friday?”

Dan takes the clothes, and gives her a slightly nervous look. “It’s not, no. Uh, how do I…” he breaks off, holds up the bra as an explanation.

Blair exhales through her nose. “Oh, for crying out loud. Stand up, close your eyes, let me do it.”

Dan gives her half a smile, and then gets up. “Huh,” he says. “The world looks different from this height.”

“For god’s sake,” Blair says. “If you must yabber on and on, could you at least wait until you have your voice back?”

Dan laughs, a belly laugh, and Blair glares at him. Once she’s put the bra on, and he’s put on the shirt and trousers, and he looks presentable, they both spend a solemn moment staring at their reflections in the mirror.

“We’re both standing all wrong,” Dan says, thoughtfully. “We’ll never convince anybody that I’m you and you’re me.”

“I know,” Blair says. “That’s why I had you meet me here today. I thought we could compare schedules, postpone whatever we have going on, cancel any appointments, just wait it out.”

“Uh huh,” Dan says. “But what if it sticks around for a while? Shouldn’t we be prepared to live like this for longer, worst case scenario?”

Blair makes a face. “Okay, how about this: we meet Serena for lunch.”

“Serena?”

“Yes, it’s perfect,” Blair says. “She knows both of us, she can help!”

Dan doesn’t look too enthusiastic about this, but before Blair can say anything to ask if something’s going on, he nods. “Worth a shot,” he tells her.

Blair calls Serena, and nearly drops the phone when Serena says, “Dan! Hey!”

She’s quiet too long, wondering what Dan would say. Dan wouldn’t call Serena “S”, but calling her Serena feels alien, weird, like Serena isn’t her best friend. But while she’s in this body, Serena is technically her ex-girlfriend. Blair swallows.

“Dan?” Serena asks again.

Dan snatches the phone out of her hands; the most Blair-like thing he’s done in Blair’s body so far.

“Hey, sorry about Humphrey, I think someone took the batteries out of him,” Dan says sweetly, giving Blair a smug look. “What he wanted to say is, we wanted to meet you for lunch today, anywhere you want to go. Does that suit you?”

Serena’s talking, and Blair moves closer to Dan, ready to press her ear to the phone even if it means getting very physically close to him.

Dan hits speakerphone.

“….but this is coming out of nowhere, B,” Serena is saying. “Is there anything that you and Dan want to tell me?”

Blair can hear the smile in Serena’s voice, can imagine the expression on her face of quiet amusement.

“Blair and I are friends now,” she says, giving Dan a look to say _two can play at this game._ He quirks up an eyebrow but nods slightly, as if to say that the message has been received. “All the time we spent in NYU…. we realised we’ve got a lot more in common than we thought.”

This is pretty solid, Blair thinks happily. She even rushed her words a bit at the end, that weird quirk that Dan has.

“B?” Serena says, and it takes everything Blair has not to respond. “Is this true?”

Dan frowns. “Yes,” he says long-sufferingly. “Unfortunately. His company isn’t _that_ unbearable, I can tolerate him.”

Blair frowns now, nudging him with her elbow. “Hey,” she says warningly. “Cut that out, I actually like you.”

Dan blinks, and gives her a look, like he cannot believe it. Blair looks at him, slightly confused as well; she hadn’t meant to say it, but him being mean about himself in her voice was throwing her off balance. Did he really think she was that nasty? She’d definitely done things to deserve it, but they were past that now, she’d thought. Or did he hate himself that much? There was a time when Blair would’ve thought that Dan had a healthy amount of self-confidence, but the more she got to know him, the more she doubted that he was really as comfortable being himself as it seemed like he was.

“Wow,” Serena is saying, sounding confused but like she’s trying to sound enthusiastic. “I guess it _is_ true, then. I’m okay meeting anywhere, but my mom ordered this incredibly elaborate stew, so I could bring it over?”

“Stew?” Blair asks. “That’s the best she has?”

Dan looks like he’s trying not to laugh – Blair can tell. She knows that expression.

“Yeah, I know,” Serena groans. “Please help me eat it.”

“Sure,” Blair says again, enthusiastic, because she has Dan’s voice and she really does think he would be stupidly supportive of Serena over things like this. “Bring it over to my place in Brooklyn, we’ll eat it together. Blair and I can pop over to the store and buy other things, let us know what you need and we’ll get it.”

“And Blair is okay being in the loft, at Brooklyn?” Serena asks, a laugh in her voice.

“It’s not so bad,” Dan says grudgingly. “I’ll survive it.”

Now it’s Blair’s turn to try not to laugh.

“I can’t wait to see you!” Serena gushes. “My two favourite people on the planet, getting along!”

Dan and Blair exchange a look, and do their best to imitate each other’s nervous laughter. Blair’s better at it than Dan is.

They say bye and hang up, and Blair says to Dan, “We’re not telling Serena about the swap, are we?”

“Would she even believe us?” Dan says. “I mean, I wouldn’t believe it if it didn’t happen to me. Neither would you.”

Blair nods. That’s not even a debatable point.

“Besides,” he says. “This is fun, you know. Acting to be each other.”

Blair would’ve made fun of him for expressing such a sentiment, except that she feels exactly the same.

She’s going to be a better Dan Humphrey than he is a Blair Waldorf. He won’t know what hit him.

-

They make it to the loft after buying humus and pita for Serena (“I can’t believe Lily brought stew,” Dan had complained, “That’s so uncool. Lily’s not like that.” Blair had rolled her eyes. “Please,” she’d said. “Lily’s totally uncool, you just haven’t seen her at her worst yet.”)

“Let me do French braids for you while we wait for Serena,” Blair says to Dan.

That is the position that Serena catches them in.

“Oh, I didn’t know you could do braids!” Serena says enthusiastically. “Since when?”

Dan frowns. “He grew up with Jenny,” he says, making it sound like an insult, which – fair. “I’m sure he can braid extremely well.”

“Whatever, princess,” Blair says. “You’re just being sulky because I’m better than you at it.”

“Wow, you two really _are_ getting along,” Serena says. She moves to sit across them, watching with a fond expression on her face, and that’s when Dan fucks up.

“You look gorgeous,” he says to her, dreamily.

“Thank you, B!” Serena says, radiant and amicable.

Blair tugs at the hair she’s braiding. Dan yelps.

“Stop mooning over my ex-girlfriend,” she says, low, a threat. “You’re not a lesbian, are you?”

Dan makes a choked noise.

“Dan!” Serena chides, shaking her head at Blair, which _whoops,_ she’s clearly messed this up, too. “That is so unlike you. Need I remind you that _you_ broke up with me?”

Blair swallows.

Dan says, in a voice that’s calm and somehow exactly the tone Blair herself would use in a situation like this, “S, it’s fine. He didn’t mean anything by it, and I’m fine.” He puts a hand on Blair’s thigh, a little above the knee, definitely not high enough for it to be even remotely scandalous. “Watch what you say, Humphrey.”

Blair wants to scowl, but that would be breaking character. She manages a solemn look, and says, “I’ll keep that in mind, Waldorf.”

The actual lunch goes even more awkwardly. Serena asks “Dan” for help with the cutlery, and Blair hasn’t been around enough to know where things are, so Dan covers for her, which looks incredibly suspicious. He manages to say something about, “Told you we were friends, S!” which looks less suspicious, but she can tell that Serena still knows something is off.

Serena ultimately wants something that’s on the highest shelf, and Dan says, “I’d get it for you, but since it’s on the third row on the fourth shelf over there, I can’t reach it!”

“Don’t worry Blair, I’ve got it,” Blair manages to say drily. “It is my house, after all.”

Dan manages not to smile at that, but she can tell by the little nod that he gives her that he’s impressed.

Serena takes a generous forkful of the stew, chews it thoughtfully.

“Dan, wait, be careful,” Dan says to Blair. “I know you keep forgetting that you bruised your left knee against the coffee table that day, don’t let it hit the cabinets, because that’ll hurt like _hell_.”

 _Humphrey, you amateur,_ Blair thinks.

“Thanks Waldorf, I’d completely forgotten,” she shoots back instead, managing the dry and ambiguous tone that Dan uses sometimes, in which she can never tell whether he’s joking or serious.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Serena says. “I’m happy for you too, you know, but it’s fine. You don’t need to hide your secret anymore. It’s okay.”

“It is?” Dan asks.

“We don’t have any secrets!” Blair says.

Serena gives them both a fond smile again. “I have eyes, you know. I get why you’re hesitant to tell people, it’s sort of unbelievable.”

“It is, isn’t it,” Blair murmurs.

“What gave us away?” Dan asks, propping his face up against his chin.

“The way you both are around each other… it’s like you know each other better than you know yourselves,” she says. “It’s fine, I think it’s cute. I’m not the ex you need to worry about, anyway.”

Dan and Blair exchange a look, thoroughly confused. They don’t remain confused for much longer, though.

“How does Chuck feel about the fact that you’re dating Dan?” Serena asks Dan. “I can’t see him taking this well.”

“Serena, I don’t want to talk about Chuck,” Dan says, and the look he shoots Blair is panicked, although he’s doing a fantastic job at hiding it.

“It doesn’t matter,” Blair says. She moves, shifts over to where Dan is, puts a hand on his shoulder, a steadying weight. His hands – well, her hands since she’s in his body – are so big, so solid. The shoulder under her hand feels small in comparison, but not in a fragile way. It’s sad, she thinks, that she can love her body better when it’s Dan wearing it. When it’s Dan in her body, she forgives her body for not being perfect. “Serena, it doesn’t matter if Chuck is upset or angry. Blair and I are a team. We’ll face him together.”

Serena gives Blair an approving nod. “You know, I actually _am_ happy for you both,” she says. “Thank you for having me over, and for helping me finish this stew.”

“What was Lily thinking, seriously,” Dan says grimly.

“Eric has been saying the exact same thing for the past hour straight,” Serena says. She hugs Dan and Blair before she leaves, and Blair is astonished by how different it is, hugging people as Dan Humphrey. She’s never been able to envelop Serena in her arms like this before.

Once Serena’s gone, Dan says, “You’re so tiny.”

“No, it’s _you_ who’s freakishly big,” she says. “I can’t believe any of that just happened.”

“Me neither,” Dan says, grinning. “I bet Serena’s processing what she just thought happened, too.”

“You’re in my body, and I will admit, seeing you know where everything is in your kitchen when you look like me is fairly incriminating,” Blair says. “I bet Serena thinks we have a lot of sex.”

Dan gives Blair an incredulous look. And she giggles, which sets him off, too, and they both sit there laughing harder than she’s ever laughed before. At some point her ribs begin to hurt from it, and they’re both laughing so hard that their breath’s irregular and interrupted.

Every time they stop, one of them will make eye contact with the other, and they’ll start again.

-

“Come on, let’s watch Rebecca,” Dan says, once they’ve both regained their composure. “I got the Hitchcock film.”

“Nothing beats the book!” Blair says. “Have you watched this one yet?”

“When I was in tenth grade, I think,” Dan says, sheepishly. “I don’t actually remember much of it.”

Blair lets out an overly scandalized gasp. “Humphrey, I cannot believe this! How have you been functioning in polite society for all these years without the fundamental memory of this film? Let’s watch it again.”

“The book, though,” Dan says, setting up the movie. “What do you remember about it?”

“There’s this quote about bottling up a memory like a scent so you can go back to it whenever you want,” Blair remembers. “I liked that. But the book as a whole is very grim. She should’ve set Maxim de Winter on fire.”

Dan laughs, and it’s his laugh even though it’s her voice. He sets the movie up, and then curls up against her, head on her shoulder.

“What’s this for?” Blair asks, even as she puts an arm around him.

“I’m not small enough to do this in my body,” Dan says. “I don’t know, just wanted to see how different it feels. This is okay, right?”

Blair hums, resting her chin on the top of his head. “This is very okay,” she tells him, shifting to a more comfortable position. “Now, that’s enough. Watch the film, Humphrey.”

-

“I’m pretty sure that’s not what happens in the book,” Dan says when the credits are rolling at the end.

“I read about this,” Blair tells him nonchalantly. “Hitchcock felt that, through the written medium, du Maurier could keep readers’ sympathy to Maxim, despite what he did, but that keeping the audience sympathetic to him through a film portrayal wouldn’t have worked if he was still guilty. So he changed that.”

“Huh, I disagree,” Dan says. He shifts from against Blair, leaning against the arm rest, gesturing wildly with his hands as he talks. “I think it’s completely possible to have media with unlikeable or problematic protagonists, and have the audience root for them anyway. Plus, it’s like, Rebecca is a story of obsession, and it makes sense. Maxim loved that house more than he loved anything else. That’s such a fundamental aspect of his character.”

Blair blinks, something clicking into place. “He loved his property more than he loved his wife.”

“Exactly, which is why he lost his property in the end,” Dan says, gleeful that Blair is agreeing with him without the pretence of arguing. “Wait, what’s wrong?”

Prioritizing property over people isn’t a new or even foreign concept for Blair, nor is the bitter feeling of being second best all the time, yet she still feels empty and carved open by the way it feels inevitable.

“I’m like Maxim de Winter’s second wife,” Blair says. She doesn’t say _Chuck._ She doesn’t have to; she can tell by the look in Dan’s eyes that he understands.

“If anything, I think you’re like Rebecca,” Dan offers. “You’re very much your own person. You aren’t defined by anyone else.”

“It’s sweet that you think so,” she says. She feels bloated, too full, like she’s had too much of the stew, but she isn’t going to purge when she’s in Dan’s body – that’s off limits.

“I am very sweet,” Dan says, and then Blair’s phone rings, and it’s Chuck on the caller ID.

“Speak of the devil,” Dan says darkly, and Blair laughs delightedly, surprising them both. “Should I handle this?”

“You have my voice, Humphrey,” she says, gesturing with her hands. “But put him on speaker.”

“Blair,” Chuck says as a greeting, his standard drawl oozing like liquid.

“Chuck,” Dan says, neutrally.

“Let me take you out tonight,” Chuck says. “I know I hurt you, and I’m _sorry._ I need you, Blair.”

“I’m afraid that I can’t pencil you in,” Dan says primly. “I’m a busy woman, Chuck. I can’t drop everything for you whenever you want.”

“Let me fix this,” Chuck says.

Dan looks at Blair, raises an eyebrow. Blair takes out a pen from his pocket (writer types sure are good for _something_ ) and scribbles on the pita and hummus receipt, DESTROY HIM.

“Blair?” Chuck prompts.

Dan clears his throat. “There’s nothing to fix,” he says. “I don’t want to be with you. If you really love me, you’ll understand. You’ll leave me alone.”

“That’s it?” Chuck asks, incredulous.

“You care more about Bass Industries than you do about me,” Dan says, voice hard enough to cut diamonds. “I’m not asking you to do things differently, I understand how you work. But I’m not like that, Chuck. I’m tired of the games. I’m tired of _us._ I deserve to be with someone who listens to me, to someone who believes in the good parts of who I am. Not someone who encourages me to be worse.”

Blair’s hand makes a tight fist around nothing. It’s a reflex, anyway, she feels like she’s being squeezed to a pulp. She’s spoken to Dan about her relationship problems with Chuck, of course, but she’d never realised just how deeply he’d understood the way she felt, and just how much he believed that she could do better than Chuck.

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” Chuck says, and even his apology is completely halfway. Blair loved him once, but she knows what Dan said is right. She can’t let him back in.

“Me too, Chuck,” Dan says. “Goodbye.”

It’s only when Dan wraps his arms around her, and holds her against his chest that she realises that she’s crying.

“Huh, I _really_ am not a pretty crier,” Dan says. She knows he’s trying to make her laugh, but all she can manage is a weak smile. Undaunted, Dan goes on, “Like, that bit in Rebecca before they’re engaged or married, and she’s crying and she thinks Maxim won’t possibly find her attractive, ever, because she’s doesn’t look like a stereotypical beautiful romantic love interest? I don’t know why that made such an impact on me.”

“It’s because you’re a disgusting crier,” Blair sniffs. “How do I turn off your nose? It’s running litres. And oh, fuck, it’s on my dress.”

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Dan echoes.

“It’s fine, I’m a pro at getting messy shit out of expensive clothes,” Blair says. She pulls off Dan’s shirt, and waits for him to take hers off. “Here, wear this. I don’t care that they’re temporarily attached to your chest; you have no excuse to ogle my boobs. I’m going to wash my snot off this.”

“Is it my snot, or yours?” Dan says curiously, following Blair as she heads over to his bathroom sink. “It’s you who cried, but it is my body, and my nose. Do we get shared custody?”

“You’re horrible,” Blair says. She flicks a handful of water at him. “I hate you.”

“If you want a water fight, we should take it outside,” Dan says, grinning.

“No,” Blair says. “I want to watch children’s cartoons.”

“We could watch Kim Possible,” Dan says, adjusting to the abrupt change in topic easily. “I just, I don’t know. I think you’d like it.”

“I have watched it before, you know,” Blair says haughtily. “I _was_ a child once.”

Dan goes to his closet, changes out of the soaked shirt, and offers Blair a dress shirt with ruffles.

“Since when do you own things like this?” Blair asks, laughing.

“I was a pirate one Halloween,” Dan tells her.

“The stitches are exquisite,” Blair says, marvelling at the design.

“It’s all Jenny,” Dan says.

Blair hums, putting it on. She doesn’t know how Jenny would feel about her wearing Dan’s costume, but she pushes it to the back of her mind, tells herself it doesn’t matter. The costume is Dan’s, and he’s okay with it.

They sit on the couch again, but they don’t watch Kim Possible or any other cartoon. They work on making a playlist instead, a Great Gatsby themed one. And Blair falls asleep like that, with Dan pillowed against her chest.

-

“I’m ordering pizza for dinner,” he tells her. “Is that okay?”

 _Not in my body, please, no,_ Blair thinks, but she pushes it away. “Yeah, that’ll do. Do you think we could pop over to a grocery store somewhere and buy yoghurt?”

“Let’s split up and do it,” Dan says. “I’ll sit at home and wait for the delivery guy, you go to the supermarket and get some yoghurt? I wouldn’t know what flavour you like, and if we’re waiting on food, we can’t leave the house empty.”

“Okay,” Blair says. They spend fifteen minutes looking through a pizza place’s delivery menu together, and bickering over it, and then Blair leaves for the supermarket.

She’s so busy picking out her yoghurt, and texting Dan to check if there’s anything he needs, that she doesn’t notice a teenage girl lurking between the isles, phone clutched in hand, camera pointed at her.

As she’s on her way back, she gets a call from Dan. “Someone followed the pizza delivery guy here,” he tells her. “Photos will probably be up on Gossip Girl within the hour.”

“What do I do now?” Blair asks.

“I don’t know,” Dan says. “Just get back here, and we’ll deal with it together.”

So they’re sitting there, next to each other, eating pizza and not looking at their phones, and Blair thinks she should be worried, but strangely enough, she feels entirely at peace and comfortable.

“What’s the worst thing that they can say?” Blair asks him, after dinner.

Dan looks at her, eyes wide, and that is such a strange look on her face because it is so very _him._ “Probably an iteration of what Serena assumed, but being Gossip Girl, it’ll probably be ruder.”

“I don’t actually care,” Blair says, and she can tell that it surprises him, how sure she sounds. “This will blow over, it’s not a big deal. Besides, there are worse things that can be said and have been said about me. You’re not really that bad.”

“Even as a potential boyfriend?” Dan asks.

Blair shrugs. “You understand me, you respect me, you care about me. None of my exes ever had all three.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Dan says. “So. Do we sleep the bodyswap off?”

“Let’s hope for that, yes,” Blair says. “Is it okay if I stay the night?”

“I don’t mind,” Dan says. “I’ll give you a spare toothbrush; we’re always stocked up on them.”

-

They agree to share the bed, physical intimacy meaning zilch since they’re inhabiting each other’s bodies.

“Are you okay?” Dan asks Blair as they lie there side by side, both of them staring at the ceiling.

“It’s weird,” Blair admits. “But, you know. I’ll be fine. Out of everyone I bodyswapped with, I’m glad it was you.”

It’s an overly honest statement to make, but something about lying with him in the dark and sharing a bed makes it easier for her to say things she never would in broad daylight. She tells him that, and she can hear the smile in his voice as he says, “Yeah, that’s what a sleepover with a best friend feels like. The truth comes out after dark.”

He sounds incredibly fond. Blair thinks of what sleepovers at her place have always entailed, and doesn’t voice how this is the first time she’s allowed herself to be vulnerable and open with someone on a sleepover.

“How’ve you been?” she asks instead. “Is my tiny body hindering your inhumane ability to reach the top shelf?”

Dan laughs. “It’s strange, I’ll say that,” he says. “I didn’t know how much of a presence the bra would be. Is it creepy to say that I was acutely aware that I was wearing it?”

“Not creepy,” Blair says. “I mean, I understand. I hope you’re not sleeping in it.”

“No, I took it off,” Dan tells her. “And I did not look at your chest.”

“How did that work for you?”

“I’m going to murder whoever designed bras,” Dan says, but Blair can hear the smile in his voice. “They’re so inconvenient.”

“Yeah, that’s typically how it goes,” Blair says, turning to face Dan, pressing her face against his shoulder. “Anything else?”

“Two things, actually,” Dan says, sounding unsure.

“Well, shoot,” Blair says.

“Uh, earlier today, with Serena…” he begins. “I forgot I was in your body when I told her she looked good, and yeah, that was a slip up on my part, which I’m sorry about, but you got… really angry?”

“I did,” Blair says. She swallows. “I’m sorry.”

“I’d never heard my voice go like that, and it scared me a little,” Dan admits. “I’m not a naturally scary person, Blair.”

“I know,” Blair says.

They’re both silent for a moment, and she can tell that Dan’s waiting, so she goes on to explain, “The thing is, uh, Serena never talks about this because I asked her not to, but she and I sort of have history. When I was fourteen, I definitely had feelings for her; feelings I might’ve expressed once or twice, or at least, strongly implied.”

Blair closes her eyes – she doesn’t miss those days or the confusion and shame of it all; the way she wanted to be in love with Nate so badly, but never felt giddy around him in the same way she did around Serena, the guilt and the denial that came with it.

“How did she take it?” Dan asks, his voice not betraying any surprise.

Blair shrugs. “She’s Serena, she didn’t let it come between us. But _I’m_ Blair. I couldn’t stop feeling off about it. And when you forgot that Serena isn’t your ex, not while you’re in my body at least, I reacted badly. I was afraid it’d go there.”

Dan hums an affirmation. “That makes sense,” he says. “I’m sorry, Blair. I’ll be more careful.”

“I know you will,” she says, and that’s the thing, she really does. “What’s the second thing?”

Dan swallows. “I’m doing my best to manage, uh,” he says, awkward and hesitant in a way that he usually is not around her.

She nudges him with her shoulder, prompting him on.

“The bulimia,” he blurts out. “I know you’ve recovered, but I can still feel, you know. Your body has some reflexive feelings over food, even now.”

Blair hums an affirmation; she’d known this was going to come up. After all, an eating disorder like bulimia doesn’t just go away when you see a specialist. Blair had managed to get it under control as much as possible, but she did still feel pangs of it sometimes, and had to work on maintaining a healthy relationship with food. She’d never told anyone this, not even Serena – it felt too much like admitting failure, to say that even when she’d fully recovered, her body still remembered.

“I had no idea it was this difficult,” he tells her in that sincere way that he has. “I’m sorry that you went through that, and I respect you a lot for getting where you are.”

“You better respect me,” Blair threatens through a yawn. “Thank you for telling me. I knew it’d crop up sooner or later. You’ll keep this to yourself, won’t you?”

“You know I will,” Dan says.

They fall asleep together, but when they wake up, they’re still not in their own bodies.

-

“I cannot go any longer without a bath,” Blair huffs. “Come on, let’s go back to my place. The bathrooms are bigger.”

“Okay,” Dan says cheerfully. He guides her to his cupboard, opens it and gestures with his hands. “Pick some clothes already.”

Blair surveys his clothes with a keen eye, and hums in approval. “You know, these aren’t _all_ bad,” she allows.

“I have to dress so that Jenny would agree to be seen with me in public, now don’t I?” Dan says, and Blair feels strangely saddened by it, even though she knows he’s joking.

When they reach the Waldorf penthouse, Blair takes his hand and leads him over to the biggest bathroom; the one with the tub that will fit two people.

“This is an option,” she says. “We could also use separate bathrooms, but we’re in each other’s bodies. For the first time in any friendship, getting naked together makes this simpler, and not more complicated.”

“Yeah,” Dan says. “Plus, I could do with some help with the bra hooks. Taking them off is easier than putting them on; putting them on nearly makes my shoulder pop every time. Though if you could help me take it off, I’d appreciate that.”

“Humphrey, you’re hopeless,” Blair says, but she unfastens the bra hook anyway, trying not to pay attention to the way it makes her feel; her first time undoing someone else’s bra and it’s Dan Humphrey she’s doing it to. The size difference between their bodies hits her once again, and it feels strange. She’s not used to looking at her body and seeing it as small.

They sit there, side by side, almost entirely naked, waiting for the bath to fill up, before they both strip and enter the tub. It’s big enough that their bodies don’t brush against each other, but as they adjust to get comfortable, her legs and his legs press against each other just a little.

“That’s okay?” she asks him.

“Yeah, all good,” Dan says. He lets out a little sigh, leans back against the edge of the tub. “I could stay here for hours.”

“Your skin will wrinkle like a raisin,” Blair says, turning up her nose. “Which concerns me greatly, because it’s my skin you’re in, and I am not eager to be a harvested grape.”

Dan smirks, flicks his wrist and splashes her. “You’d rather ferment into wine, wouldn’t you?”

“I don’t care much for this metaphor,” Blair scoffs.

Dan gives her a little smile. It’s so characteristic to his face that it is disorienting seeing it on hers.

“You know, I’ll never get used to this,” she tells him.

“Me neither,” he agrees. “You’ve scowled more with my face in twenty-four hours than I have in at least four years.”

“It builds character!” Blair insists. She feels a pang of guilt over frown lines and pushes it away. She doesn’t have any frown lines, and neither will Dan. She does get headaches and migraines easily though, which… “Do you have a headache?”

“A little, yeah,” Dan says. “It’s not really getting in the way of anything.”

“Shift, come and sit here,” she says, and he moves so that they’re in the same position that they were sitting in during the hair braiding session. Blair carefully begins to massage at his temples, using the massage routine that Nate had devised for this specific purpose. “Better?”

“Mmhm,” he says, and the relief in his voice is tangible. She feels a little bad about not having thought of it sooner, and she apologises to him for it.

“Don’t worry about it,” Dan tells her. “You were adjusting to my body.”

“It’s a good specimen,” Blair allows. “Works like a machine.”

“Yeah, uh, don’t try and play lacrosse while you’re in there,” Dan warns her. “My hand-eye coordination is complete shit.”

Blair giggles. “Why does that not surprise me?”

“Oh, quit it, you,” Dan huffs, but she knows he’s smiling, too.

-

They spend a lot longer sitting in the bath than they should. Once they’re done, they towel themselves dry, get clothed with no embarrassment or weirdness over the nudity, and leave the bathroom together. Dorota shoots them both a look, and Blair knows that Dan’s going to get a lecture intended for her, and manages not to giggle at the absurdity of it.

“Miss Blair,” she says. “Nate Archibald is here.”

Dan and Blair exchange a look, and then Dan thanks Dorota before the two of them walk over to Nate.

“So it’s true,” Nate says in lieu of a greeting. “You both really _are_ a thing.”

“Heard that from Chuck, now did you?” Dan asks, raising an eyebrow.

“No, just saw it on Gossip Girl last night,” Nate says. “I wanted to give you some space, which is why I texted to say I’d be here this morning. Did you not get my text?”

“We were ignoring our phones,” Blair says, giving Dan a smitten little smile – faking being Dan Humphrey, faking being someone’s boyfriend, she can do all of that just fine. “We didn’t want to let Gossip Girl’s idle speculation and scandal get us down.”

“Right,” Nate says. He exhales solemnly. “Bree broke up with me.”

“Blair would tell you that she’s a Republican, and that you can’t trust them,” Blair says, which is the best she can do with Dan’s voice. “I am here to tell you that I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too!” Dan insists, working with the cue. “But hey, at least now you’ve escaped being lured into some sort of political scheme that would make abortions illegal, which is totally what she would’ve done, and you and I both know it!”

Blair gives him an approving nod; he’s doing great.

Nate sighs, gives Dan an exasperated but fond look. “You’re right, I guess. End of the day, her world mattered more to her than being with me did. I was always going to be an afterthought, that is, if she even thought of me.”

Dan nods, moving to sit beside Nate. “You deserve better than someone who just sees you as a part of a political agenda, Nate!” he says. “Or someone who’s with you just because of how you look. You’re a really good person, you know? You should be with someone who respects that.”

Blair shifts over, sitting on the other side of Nate. “You sure make a good agony aunt, Waldorf,” she says, glancing at Dan. She then puts an arm around Nate, squeezing his shoulder briefly before letting her arm drop. “She’s right though, dude. The fact that I am agreeing with _Blair Waldorf_ should cue you in on the fact that it’s seriously not even debatable.”

She just said the word dude, which, ugh. But she’s obviously sold it, because Nate nods.

“I just can’t help letting her get me down,” Nate says. “Which, I know, sounds silly, but…”

“It’s not silly,” Dan says. “You cared about her, and you thought she cared about you, but even if she did reciprocate, it wasn’t in the same way, and it wasn’t enough. Don’t feel bad about feeling bad. You’re allowed to feel bad. Do you want ice-cream and a Hepburn movie? Dan and I can mourn with you.”

“We can watch whatever you want, Nate,” Blair says, knocking her shoulder against his. “Whatever you need. Blair and I are here.”

“Let’s watch hockey,” Nate says, after a moment of thoughtful contemplation. “And you have pistachio ice-cream?”

Dan makes eye contact with Blair, an incredulous look on his face like _really? Nate likes pistachio ice-cream?_ and Blair shrugs.

“Blair and I will check if there’s some left over from last time, and if not, we’ll order,” Blair says. “Why don’t you wait for us in the TV room? We’ll just be a minute.”

There is no pistachio ice-cream in the Waldorf freezer (“What a mercy,” Dan says drily, and Blair nudges him with an elbow, says, “Hush, you,”) so they delegate the task of getting it delivered to Dorota, as opposed to splitting up, or leaving Nate entirely alone. Blair does put some popcorn in the microwave, though, and then she and Dan walk back to where Nate has already tuned into a sports channel and is watching with single minded focus.

Blair and Dan, by some unspoken but mutual agreement, sit on either side of Nate, and Blair puts an arm around him, and Dan rests his head on Nate’s shoulder. They remain like that for a solid amount of time, not even moving when Dorota returns with the ice-cream, right until Nate tells them regretfully that he has to go, because he’s meeting Serena for something.

Before he leaves, he says, “You know, I never thought I’d say this, but you both work well together.”

“You can’t say that and not elaborate,” Blair prompts him.

“You both just seem really comfortable around each other,” Nate says, smiling at both of them. “I’m happy for you.”

“We appreciate it,” Dan says, and gives Nate the sort of smile that Blair reserves for genuine sincerity. If she’d underestimated him, it would spook her, how eerily good he is at imitating her mannerisms, but she’d known for a while that there was more to Dan Humphrey than met the eye.

Once Nate is gone, they both look at each other.

“What now?” Blair asks.

“I don’t especially want to eat dinner with your mother,” Dan says. “And I’m sure you don’t want us to meet Rufus and Lily together. Back to the loft for another sleepover sounds okay to you?”

“Sounds perfect,” Blair says. “But not pizza for dinner again.”

“I can cook something more regular,” Dan promises. “Let’s just, uh. Is there anything you need from here?”

Once upon a time, Blair would’ve demanded that he wear appropriate monogrammed sleepwear, and that he let her bring her silk sheets with her to Brooklyn. Now, she realises that she doesn’t actually care.

“No, not really,” she says, taking his hand – and again, it hits her, how strange it all is.

“Well, I could do with strawberry ice-cream,” Dan says. “Watching Nate eat pistachio ice-cream from the tub has changed me.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged,” Blair says, giving him a smile. “Want to stop over somewhere, give Gossip Girl something to talk about?”

She’s only half serious about it, but Dan grins at her, clearly amused. “Sure.”

Blair isn’t ever one to be outdone, so she doesn’t back out, and they make a whole show out of it, going to an ice-cream shop, ordering raspberry, strawberry and chocolate, and Dan offers her a spoon of his ice-cream, feeding her like she’s a child. Every now and then they’ll exchange a look, and she can tell that he finds the entire charade as amusing as she does, and they’re both grinning at each other, trying not to burst out laughing.

It works faster than they’d expect, phones pinging when they still have half a scoop of ice-cream left.

“What’s this I hear, Upper East Siders,” Blair reads off her phone, “Queen B and Lonely Boy on an ice-cream date? Sounds sweet, but, like ice-cream, will these two melt in the heat of the real world? Better watch out, B – surely you haven’t found your forever with DH of all people! Whatever happened to high standards?”

Dan tries to look sad, but ruins it with an attractive snort.

“Refrain from laughing like that,” Blair says, but she’s smiling, too. “It reflects badly on me.”

“You really don’t care about this?” Dan asks.

“It’s far from the worst thing she’s said about me,” Blair points out. “Besides, I get a certain thrill from knowing that she’s wrong. Now, are you going to finish that?”

-

Dinner is a laid-back affair, just them in the loft listening to Neutral Milk Hotel. At some point, they get pleasantly drunk, and sing along with the songs. Dan’s voice is surprisingly nice to sing with, and Blair loves how it sounds, and Dan’s doing a pretty good job with her voice, too, which is good because she’s a decent singer, and the way he sings with her voice does justice to that.

They end up lying on the floor, sharing a blanket.

“How strange it is, to be anything at all,” Dan’s singing, and Blair laughs as the song ends.

“I love your body,” she tells him, and it’s not something she would say sober, or in any other context. “It’s a nice body.”

“Thank you,” Dan says with a bad British accent, and she cracks up.

They’re one step away from falling asleep on the floor, when Blair’s phone pings with a message from Chuck.

“Humphrey, really?” the message says. “What does he have that I don’t?”

Blair exhales. “A heart,” she types, and sends back. She puts her phone down, and looks at Dan, who’s clearly half asleep on the floor.

“Humphrey, up,” she says, as if talking to a dog. “You are not to use my body to nap on the floor.”

“Mmffhhughh,” Dan murmurs, clearly half asleep.

Blair leans over him then, picks him up in her arms, and it is so strange to be able to do this. She’s clearly less drunk than she feels, as she manages to carry him over to the bed, and deposit him there carefully.

“You’re a great fake girlfriend,” Dan tells her, half asleep, before he turns around, face buried against the pillow, out like a light.

Blair watches him sleep for a moment, mostly in awe that he’d fallen asleep just like that – her body wouldn’t cooperate that way when it was her inside it. Finally, she shrugs, going to the bathroom, brushing her teeth. She stares at Dan’s phone from where it’s positioned on the coffee table, blinking mercilessly with notifications.

She pops it open, glances at it. Seven missed calls from Jenny, and a message that says, “BLAIR WALDORF, DAN, REALLY? call me when you see this,” as well as four missed calls from Vanessa and an essay that spans six messages about how Dan can do _so much better_ than Blair that Blair doesn’t bother reading all the way through.

A small and petty part of her wants to delete the notifications, but she resists. Instead, she checks to see that the loft door is locked – the last thing she wants is Little J entering while they’re asleep and posting a picture of them sharing the bed on Gossip Girl.

She lies down in bed, next to him. After a moment of deliberation, she curls her body against his, letting her arm curl around his waist. He fits so snugly against her, and is deeply asleep enough not to protest. She falls asleep like that, her head pressed against his.

When they wake up, they are _still_ in each other’s bodies.

-

“Wow, day three being Blair Waldorf,” Dan says, instead of saying good morning. “This is horrifying – no offence.”

“None taken,” Blair says. “Though you better hope that it wears off soon – if wearing a bra was an adjustment, you really don’t want to inhabit my body when I’m menstruating. The cramps are no joke.”

“Mm,” Dan says. “Let’s raid Jenny’s closet, I want to wear a sundress.”

“Besides, you’re not being Blair Waldorf,” Blair says, ignoring him. “Only I can be Blair Waldorf. You’re still Dan Humphrey, albeit in a more glamorous and gorgeous body.”

“Sure,” Dan allows easily. “Now. Sundress?”

“I look really good in pale pink or lavender,” Blair tells him.

“Got it,” Dan affirms.

“Are you sure she’ll be okay with this?” Blair asks.

“She’ll hate it,” Dan says. “But it’s fine. She’s in Hudson anyway, not much she can do from there.”

A few minutes later, Dan’s back, wearing something lilac with lace fringes. Blair stares at him for a moment.

“Not okay?” he asks, nervous.

“Very okay,” she tells him. “I’m just confused. You’re okay with this?”

“More than okay,” he tells her. “Jenny’s designs are really cool, and it feels good being able to wear them, even though I’m using your body to do it. Plus, let’s not go anywhere today? I’ll change before we leave the loft.”

“Okay,” Blair says.

They have toast, fruit and ice-cream for breakfast, and Blair watches the way Dan sits, the slope of his back, the way he positions his shoulders, his legs folded under him, and…

“ _Fuck,”_ Blair hisses under her breath. She is not supposed to be aroused by looking at her own body. That is not how this works, but there’s something about seeing herself separate from herself that makes her feel like she _is_ beautiful.

It’s not even connected to Dan, not really. People have told her she’s beautiful before, but it’s only when she was able to be completely removed from her body that she could see it.

Dan looks up at her, and bites his lip. Of course, he’d be able to spot arousal, given that it’s his body that’s aroused. “Oh.”

“ _Oh_? That’s all you have to say?” Blair asks. “This is mortifying.”

“There’s nothing mortifying about it,” Dan tells her. “Bodyswapping comes with weird side effects. If anyone should be mortified, it’s _me_. That’s _my_ dick that’s inconveniencing you.”

“Huh,” Blair says, thinking. “Ugh, being hard feels weird, but not as weird as I would expect.”

Dan’s gaze on her is unwavering, and does not shift. “You can take care of that, if you want,” he says. “I don’t mind if you get off in my body.”

“I wish I could say that was mutual,” Blair says glumly. “But the thought of you doing anything even remotely sexual while you’re in my body is a hard no, I’m sorry.”

“Got it,” Dan says. “That’s reasonable.”

Blair blinks, exhales. “I don’t want to get off in your body,” she says, shakily.

“Okay,” Dan says. “Okay, that’s okay. Come here, sit next to me.”

Blair does, and Dan puts his arms around her. She puts her head on his shoulder, and they sit there like that for a while.

Blair wants to apologise, but she isn’t sure for what. Eventually, she tries, “You don’t mind the no sex rule, do you?”

“I think it would be extremely creepy if I did something sexual in your body,” Dan says. “There are lines, and it might be different if, I don’t know, if we were dating and we were both comfortable being sexual with each other, but that’s not the case, and it feels like blurring a line, you know? We have boundaries for a reason.”

Blair feels an overwhelming sense of relief. “So you’re not resentful,” she says. “Or curious about how clitoral or vaginal orgasms feel?”

Dan shrugs. “An orgasm is an orgasm,” he says. “I read up somewhere that it’s not really that different, how it feels.”

“I’d disagree,” Blair says. “I think how orgasms feel vary from individual to individual. No two people’s orgasms could possibly feel the same. There are also other factors, like who your sexual partner is, or partners are, what position you’re in, what you’re doing to your body, how your headspace is, a lot of other things. I’m sure we can find sufficient academic articles that explain it better.”

Dan looks a little awed. “You’re so clever,” he says, and then, “Yeah, I’ll get my laptop.”

-

They don’t find the data they’re looking for, but they get distracted, going through kink related discourse and forums instead. They’re so absorbed reading, discussing and arguing over it that when Dan’s phone rings, Dan almost falls off the couch, and it’s only Blair’s quick reflexes (even in his body!) that manage to save him from falling on his ass.

“Wow, I have a lot of messages from Jenny and Vanessa,” he says, frowning. Then, as she watches, he turns his phone off.

“I don’t think Jenny or Vanessa is going to be very happy about that,” Blair says.

“I know, I know,” Dan complains. “I just don’t know how to handle this right now.”

“Change out of that sundress, we’ll go to Nate’s,” Blair says. “He has the best weed.”

“It sure has been a day,” Dan says. “Can we invite ourselves for lunch at his place?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Blair says. She opens Dan’s closet, finds an acceptable shirt that she tosses in his direction.

Dan frowns. “You’re okay being seen wearing my clothes?”

“Gossip Girl already told everyone we’re dating,” Blair points out. “I have nothing to lose.”

“You’re weirdly okay with all of this,” Dan says, opening the closet and getting out a pair of jeans which he tells Blair have shrunk in the wash, so should fit.

“I want my body back, Dan,” Blair tells him. “Until that happens, I don’t have the energy to worry about petty nonsense like whether or not you’re wearing matching underwear, or what people think about the fact that you use my face to smile _far too much_.”

“You know, that’s fair,” Dan says. “Do you think maybe we did something that caused us to swap bodies? Did you do anything four days ago that was out of the ordinary?”

Blair frowns. “I don’t remember. I’ll think about it. Did you?”

“Nate tried to teach me golf last Monday,” Dan says. “But this is too much of a time lag, and I don’t think we live in a world in which _Nate Archibald_ has the power to switcheroo us like this.”

“Speaking of Nate,” Blair says. “Now that you’re done dressing up as your own fake girlfriend, let’s go and get high. Maybe it’ll help.”

“Certainly won’t hurt,” Dan says. “Let’s go.”

-

“Wait, did I hear right,” Nate says. “Blair wants to get high?”

“He’s a bad influence on me,” Dan says, pointing at Blair with an intensity that’s almost vicious.

“Waldorf, this was your idea,” Blair shoots back, because, _yeah_ , it had been her idea.

“Alright!” Nate says. “We can huddle in my bedroom. It’s cosy.”

He ambles off, probably to get the weed.

“Is Nate like, our cuddle buddy now?” Dan asks Blair.

“I’m thinking, yes?” Blair says. “But are you complaining? He has nice arms.”

“He _does_ ,” Dan agrees. “Very good arms indeed.”

They sit in Nate’s bedroom, which is very cosy, as he’d said. It even has a bay window, which they open to let the smoke out.

“We should have a threesome,” Dan jokes, after taking a hit of the joint that Nate hands him.

“No fucking way,” Blair says, because swearing in his voice makes her feel less self-conscious. “The third person should always be a stranger!”

“Yeah, Blair, weren’t you the one to tell me that?” Nate asks, looking at Dan curiously.

“It was a joke,” Dan protests, attempting to save face. “Just thought I’d sink to your level, Humphrey.”

“Well, go ahead and sink, I won’t throw you a life vest,” Blair says, and then realises that isn’t a very Dan thing to say.

Nate either doesn’t think so, or isn’t paying attention, because he just takes a puff of the joint before handing it to Blair. “The two of you are so married,” he says.

“That’s not really a compliment,” Dan says. “Nate, be real. You’ve seen how most marriages around here end.”

It is so very much something that Blair herself would’ve said – she still grieves the time her family was her mother, her father and her. Her father leaving had torn apart her family, separated them into two different countries, and sure, Blair wanted her parents to be happy, but she missed the feeling of being _home_ , how it was something she only got to feel during the holidays when they went to visit or her father came over, and even then it wasn’t the same.

“Divorces suck,” she says, instead of untangling all that. “People shouldn’t get married if they aren’t going to last.”

“Sometimes people don’t know that they aren’t going to last,” Dan points out. “But enough of this, let’s listen to Radiohead.”

“How did you know that I love Radiohead?” Blair asks, excited.

“Hm, lucky guess?” Dan says, smiling charmingly.

“Give me a second,” Nate says, fiddling with his phone. He finds _A Moon Shaped Pool_ and plays it.

“You are the best man in the world,” Dan says dreamily to Nate.

Blair, despite herself, laughs at that. “Blair,” she says, “your boyfriend is right _here_.”

Dan looks at her, and smiles like they’re sharing a secret, which they are. In that moment, she feels better than she ever had scheming with Chuck.

-

They’re both singing as they stumble back to the loft. Blair’s phone rings.

“Fuck, it’s my mother,” she says, handing it to Dan.

“You want me to handle this?” Dan asks.

“Not like we have other options,” Blair says. “You have my voice.”

“What do I say?” Dan asks.

Blair smiles giddily. “Tell her you’re happy,” she says. “And, oh, don’t call her Mom; I address her as Mother, and Mother only.”

Dan smiles back. “Noted,” he says.

And when he picks up the phone, he says something about “I’m sorry I disappeared off the face of the planet, it’s just, I’m with my best friend and I’m so happy,” and he doesn’t even sound like he’s pretending.

-

They’re nearly at the loft when Blair remembers.

“I think I know what I did differently the night before the bodyswap,” Blair says.

“Hm?” Dan stops in his tracks, waiting.

“Serena and I were drinking together, and she pushed me into a fountain,” Blair says. “Not maliciously, I think we were both just drunk enough that it felt like a good idea. And she asked me to make a wish, and….”

“And you wished that you were me?” Dan asks, incredulous.

“No, ew, don’t be crass,” Blair says. “I wished I would be somebody else.”

Dan’s silent for a moment, and when Blair chances a look at his expression she can tell that he looks quietly sad.

“I don’t need your pity, Humphrey,” she huffs.

“No, it’s not pity,” Dan says. “I think you’re perfectly fine as you are. I wish you felt that way, too.”

“I’m getting there,” she says, candidly honest in a way that usually doesn’t come easy to her. “I’m taking it one day at a time.”

-

They call a cab and head over to the City Hall fountain, which is where Serena had done it. After paying the driver, generous tip included, the two of them amble over to it.

“How do we do this?” Dan asks.

“Push me in,” Blair tells him. “It was me whose wish made this happen; it’s got to be me who undoes it.”

“I feel bad about this,” Dan tells her. “I’m not the kind of man who pushes women into fountains.”

“Well, I am the kind of woman who pushes men into fountains, and you’re _in my body,_ remember, so, push!”

Dan shakes his head, and then, raising his voice, screams in an incredibly Blair-esque way. “You,” he huffs out, jabbing at the flat centre of her chest, “are _insufferable,_ Humphrey, and you will be _the death of me!_ ”

“You’re such a drama queen,” Blair shoots back, and he goes, “ _Look who’s talking_ ,” and in a swift movement that is gentle and careful despite the nature of it, he shoves her, and she trips, her gangly legs making it more awkward than the last time she’d fallen in this fountain.

As she hits the water, she wishes that things go back to the status quo; that her body and Humphrey’s body go back to their original owners.

She stays underwater for a brief moment, and then hands are carefully pulling her out.

Dan, in her body, shoots her a look.

“ _I_ am going back to the loft, and changing into dry clothes,” she tells him. “When you feel like being civil, follow me back there.”

Dan takes the cue, and walks off in the opposite direction in a huff.

When he _does_ get back to the loft forty minutes later, it’s with a box of macaroons.

“Peace offering?” he asks.

“We weren’t even fighting,” Blair points out, amused. “But I’ll never refuse macaroons, thank you.”

-

When they wake up, the next day, they are back in their own bodies.

“Huh,” Dan says, rotating his wrists, shifting his fingers. “So it’s over?”

“It’s over,” Blair agrees, running her fingers through her hair. “Now what?”

Dan pulls his laptop over, opens up Gossip Girl.

“Someone sent in the video of me pushing you into the fountain,” Dan says, “though, of course, it looks like you pushed me. But that’s not important. What is important is that everyone thinks we’ve broken up now.”

“So we don’t need to spend time together anymore,” Blair says, thinking. “We don’t have any reason to.”

“I meant what I told your mother last night, on the phone,” Dan tells her. “You really are my best friend now.”

“We took proximity to a completely different level,” Blair says. “We surpassed atomic levels of closeness.”

“Can I be honest with you?” Dan asks.

Blair nods.

“The first day, when I woke up in your body, I freaked out,” Dan says. “It was very disorienting. And I know I should be relieved to be in my body, but it feels disorienting to be back, although in a different way.”

“I know what you mean,” Blair says. “I miss being tall.”

Dan laughs, and there is something comforting about hearing his laugh in his voice. It makes her feel a little better.

“Do you want to hang out, anyway?” Dan asks. “Since we’re the only two people who knows what this feels like?”

“Mm,” Blair says. “Is it creepy to say that I enjoyed being in your body?”

“No,” Dan says, giving her that serious look he has, the edge of his mouth quirked up slightly. “In fact, I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

-

Spending time with Dan post-bodyswap gradually evolves into a habit. Now that they’re in their own bodies, and not covering for each other, they don’t actually need to be by each other’s side all the time, but there’s something comfortable about being in each other’s presence, given everything they’ve been through together.

They’ve spent a decent chunk of time together at NYU; studying together, proof-reading each other’s papers, enough so that even pre-bodyswap, Blair could read Dan’s handwriting with the same familiarity that she could read Serena’s. Holidays were previously a break not only from NYU, but also from each other but that’s different now.

When they need to go back for their fourth semester, Blair gets Dan to hitch a ride with her.

“You and Dan are really close now, should I be worried that you don’t need me anymore?” Serena jokes over the phone at one point. Blair can hear something like genuine worry in it.

“Come on, S,” Blair says, inexplicably frustrated by this. “There won’t ever be anyone like you, and Dan doesn’t even come close to being what you are to me.”

Vanessa stops talking to Dan entirely, and Jenny sends him angry voicemails which he doesn’t respond to on his phone, but she catches him typing out long emails over the computer instead, part apology and part explanation.

Things would be fine. This would be their new normal.

Except things can’t go back to what they were. They’ve shared a bathtub, done each other’s hair, chosen clothes for each other. Blair is aware of Dan’s body in a way she’s never been of anyone else’s; the way he moves, the way he sits, the way he conveys things through body language, leaning closer to people when he’s paying rapt attention, the way he puts his arm around his friends, and so many other quirks she’s always been vaguely aware of but can’t stop noticing now.

There are instances when she looks at Dan only to see he’s already staring at her. There are times she can tell, by how he’s crossing his legs, that he’s remembering wearing Jenny’s sundress. There are instances where he has a lost, wistful look, staring somewhere else, and she thinks she gets it. When they’d been in each other’s bodies, however much of an adjustment it was, they were _connected_ in some way. They had no choice but to trust each other, and for Blair at least, it was the first and only time she’d trusted someone and had it not blow up in her face.

Things might’ve gone on like that indeterminately, except that Vanessa intervenes.

-

“Okay, this _has_ to stop,” Vanessa says, standing in between Dan and Blair, shifting her arms huffily. “The unresolved sexual tension between the two of you is even more upsetting than the idea of the two of you having sex. So! Have sex! Get rid of this tension, it’s making everything weird!” and then, she storms off, leaving Dan and Blair in Blair’s dorm.

“Uhm,” Dan says.

“I think Vanessa made things weirder than we did by saying that,” Blair says.

“I _know_ ,” Dan says, amused. “She’s upset when she thinks we’re having sex. She’s upset when she thinks we’re not having sex. I think she just wants to hate me, sometimes.”

Blair blinks. “I don’t want to have sex with you.”

“Ouch, Blair,” Dan says, but he sounds more amused than anything else. “You sure know how to hurt a guy.”

“No, I mean…” Blair blinks, looking at him. He’s attractive in a lumberjack meets hipster poet kind of way, which Blair didn’t think was her type, but very well could be her type. Or maybe it’s just the fact that he’s been so kind and compassionate, so sensitive and Not Weird about everything; that he’s proven that she can trust him. “The tension Vanessa picked up on isn’t purely sexual.”

“Hm,” he says, waiting for her to go on.

“It was fun, pretending to be you,” she tells him. “It’s been a while since I’ve felt like that, like, we were a team, but it came so easily to us.”

“It’s like that bonus song from David Tennant and Catherine Tate’s Much Ado About Nothing,” Dan says. He begins to sing, like a character from a musical, “ _We go together like the news and the weather, we fit like hand and glove…”_

It would be embarrassing, except that Blair knows the song he’s referring to, so she sings the next line smoothly ( _Now and forever – just like birds of a feather – we fly so high above!_ )

They smile at each other. Blair feels like butter left out in the sun, gradually melting.

“We experienced a really special kind of intimacy,” she says.

“Yeah,” Dan agrees.

The two of them stare at each other, not speaking, and then Blair shifts, moving into his space, initiating a hug. He hugs back easily.

“Do you think Vanessa’s right, and that we should fuck?” Dan asks, after a few minutes of standing together in the otherwise empty dorm, arms around each other.

“I don’t know about fucking,” Blair tells him bluntly. “I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed to it, but I think we’d both feel better with a lot more physical contact between us again. Hand holding, leaning on each other’s shoulders, wrapping arms around each other, you know. All of that.”

“So, fake dating again?” Dan asks, and she can hear the little smile in his voice.

“Do you want it to be fake?” Blair asks.

The ball’s in his court, now. She trusts him to be honest, even if it’s not what she wants to hear. She knows him well enough to know that he would give her that.

“Not really, no,” he says.

“Well, okay, Dan, what are you waiting for,” Blair says softly. She moves away from the hug a little, pressing their foreheads together (grateful for the fact that her heels give her enough height to reach.) “Kiss me.”

As she watches, he smiles gradually, and it’s corny, but she thinks it makes him look like a sunrise, or a blooming flower, filling up with light and warmth and sheer happiness.

“What?” she asks, feeling like she’s out of breath.

“The way you said my name,” Dan says, and he’s looking at her in awe.

“You may have given me my body back,” Blair admits, and it’s not as difficult as it should be, to say the next part, “but you still have my heart.”

Dan’s speechless, a light flush on his cheeks but his body entirely still.

“Wow, I really have to do everything around here,” Blair says, grabbing the lapels of his coat and pulling him forward, pressing an insistent kiss to his mouth.

She can feel him smile against her mouth before he kisses back. And this is the sort of romance that she never thought she’d have; it’s not big or scary or overwhelming. It’s comfortable, like a safe place to retreat to when everything else is uncertain, when everything hurts. Dan makes her want to be the best version of herself; a version that deserves the quiet adoration in his expression. Dan makes her feel respected. Dan makes her feel confident in a way that is completely disconnected from her reputation, from the blasts on Gossip Girl, from what the Constance girls would think or say if they could see her now.

Dan makes her happy. Blair wants to make him happy, too. And they kiss, and they kiss, and they kiss, and her arms pull him closer, curling around his body, and she knows, suddenly, with crystal clear certainty, that she can do this. She can make Dan Humphrey feel loved. It doesn’t even surprise her anymore, how much she wants to do that, like it’s the most important thing in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> technically, any and all gossip girl fic i've written could go in the fic journal of the plague year, as this tv show as a whole is my current coping mechanism. even so, this fic in particular is special.
> 
> i’ve been feeling very disconnected and out of my body lately, and also had a ton of trans feelings, so this fic was a fun way to mess around with those (even though dan and blair are both mostly cis here.) i really wanted to read a bodyswap au, and i couldn’t find one, so i wrote one, as you do, and i liked the challenge & hilarity that ensured from writing an M/F bodyswap between two cis people.
> 
> im not sure to what extent how i feel is influenced or shaped by covid, but like everything everyone’s going through right now, i can’t necessarily separate these feelings from the pandemic at large. they occur within the backdrop of that, etc. hence: this fic. i think i wanted some catharsis thru writing it. and you know what? i think i got the catharsis i was hoping to get from this, too.
> 
> i hope this was as satisfying to you as a reader. feel free to drop me comments & kudoses letting me know how you feel, and [here is my dan/blair tumblr sideblog if you want to shoot me asks or DMs instead](https://dancommablair.tumblr.com/) <3


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